Mission Cure

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE - M:FAC/3 - Richard

RICHARD

ONE HOUR EARLIER

General Spencer was making himself another drink. Richard watched him add several different liquids to a cocktail shaker before going to the freezer for some ice.

"You really think that's a good idea?" Richard asked him from the living room. He'd been monitoring the new guy on the couch - Jaime - waiting for him to wake up. But so far, nothing. Not even a twitch.

Spencer capped the shaker and poured himself what looked like a vodka martini. He even pulled out a jar of olives. There was a loud pop when he opened the lid. "Actually, I think it's a great idea."

Richard bit back the things he wanted to say. Instead, he urged the General to take his position a little more seriously.

Laughing, Spencer walked to the surveillance screen near the front door. "I am taking it seriously. I'm keeping track of the ship." He tapped the screen a few times and paused. His face creased in worry.

"What's wrong?" Richard rushed to the General's side as Doctor Cohen came out of the bathroom.

"Leg's all bandaged," he told them. "I feel fine. Thanks for asking. Now we need to get my bag from downstairs."

Richard was staring at the screen in shock. "I don't know if that's possible right now," he told Cohen.

Doctor Cohen closed the door to the fridge he'd been peering into and came to stand by Spencer and Richard. "What are we staring at?" he asked before he got a good view. Then he gasped. "Is that the kitchen?"

"Yes," General Spencer told him. "Filled with those things." When he saw Richard's jaw tighten, he changed his definition. "Sick people, I mean." Then he tapped the screen to show a hallway filled with more of them. Then the Science Lab filled with even more.

"There must be a hundred loose on our ship now. Where'd they all come from?" Richard asked.

"How will we ever get downstairs?" Cohen countered.

Richard knew Cohen's concern was for his own health. He was worried he might be infected, and he was their only chance at figuring out the cure. And he was right. They had to get those supplies before Cohen started changing over - by then, it would be too late.

"What if we create a distraction, and get them all in the same room?" Richard asked, knowing it was a terrible idea. There was no way that was possible.

Spencer scowled at him. "What kind of distraction?"

"I don't know..." Richard shrugged. On earth, it would be a fire or an explosion, but neither of those were smart ideas in space. "What are they afraid of? Or attracted to?"

Cohen crossed his arms, clearly not on board with creating a distraction that meant putting himself in danger. "They like sugar."

"So, we fill a room with sugar?" Spencer asked.

"Even if we could, that wouldn't work," Cohen told them. "How would they even know it was there? It's not like you can smell it."

Richard thought about that. "What about baking cookies, or something?"

"We don't have time!" Cohen yelled.

"Fine!" Richard held up both hands in a motion of peace. "Then someone is gonna have to run around with a bag of sugar and leave a trail of it leading into a large room."

General Spencer drank from his glass. "Not it."

In Richard's mind, Spencer was the most expendable of their trio. He, himself, had a daughter. And they couldn't afford to lose Doctor Cohen who was the only hope for finding a cure. Spencer was the only one without family and who truly contributed nothing to the mission.